


Always on My Mind

by jbhoneydew



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s09e10 Operation Friendship, Fluff, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:55:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24315406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbhoneydew/pseuds/jbhoneydew
Summary: Missing scene from 9x10: Operation Friendship. Hawkeye feels guilty about B.J.'s ordeal and expresses his feelings about the incident.
Relationships: B. J. Hunnicutt/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce
Kudos: 28





	Always on My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to @im_writing_out_of_time for beta reading the fic!
> 
> Spoilers from Operation Friendship (9x10)

Hawkeye anxiously watched Dr. Norm Traeger conduct B.J’s post-surgery examination in the Swamp. Traeger gently held B.J.'s right wrist that was wrapped tightly in a white bandage and examined his range of motion. His arm was still pale and swollen. Hawkeye felt uneasy at the sight and was already fearing the worst. The specialist from Tokyo General was observing his friend’s arm for any signs of muscle paralysis possibly caused by the compartment hemorrhage.

They were in this situation because of an exploding autoclave in the scrub room. It was unfortunate that B.J. was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The pressure from the explosion sent B.J. flying across the room, causing his right arm to smash onto the concrete floor. Now, he was at risk of having permanent paralysis or nerve damage in his arm.

This was more than just a ‘hell of a whack on the arm’.

Dr. Traeger instructed B.J. to flex his middle finger. “Does it hurt?”

“A little.” B.J. sighed as he grimaced slightly in pain from the small movement.

“It’s alright, son. I see the colour in your arm is a lot better. It’s a better sight now than it was in the O.R., and you have me to thank.”

Hawkeye rolled his eyes at the specialist which went unnoticed, thankfully. Although he thought Dr. Traeger was an obnoxious pain in the ass, he was right. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

Yesterday afternoon, B.J. walked into the O.R. slumped over in pain, holding his right hand that was nearly translucent due to loss of circulation caused by the hemorrhage. The numbness in his hand was when he finally admitted that he needed medical attention. Truthfully, it scared Hawk. He worried deeply for his friend at that moment. Hell, he was worried about him for the last 48 hours. He felt like a mother hen. A guilty mother hen to be precise.

Hawk sighed in relief as he observed B.J. slowly flex the rest of his fingers. He leaned over and rubbed B.J’s left arm for reassurance. Paralysis in his fingers was out of the question. So far so good.

Dr. Traeger pointed at the blonde doctor’s wrist. “Flex it.”

B.J. stared down at his hand and slowly flexed his injured wrist, which hardly moved. He quickly bit down on his lower lip in discomfort. Pain was evident on his face but he didn’t say anything, and Hawk wasn’t surprised. It was a common theme in this whole ordeal. He knew B.J. was too proud to admit whenever he was in pain, or ask for help. Although he loved B.J., he hated how stubborn he was at times. He just hoped it didn’t cost B.J. the use of his arm - or more importantly - his surgical skills.

Traeger patted B.J.’s knee for reassurance. “Try it again, the muscles are just a bit stiff.”

B.J. flexed his wrist and fingers once more with more success this time. The movements were clear and visible. He let out a quiet laugh as a sign of relief.

“Aha! Good as new. Thanks a lot, doc.” B.J. smiled.

Hawkeye felt like he could breathe again. It was a weight lifted off of his chest. There didn’t seem to be any permanent damage. B.J. was going to be okay.

“Congratulations, Beej. You’re a two-fisted drinker again. You did a terrific job, doctor.” Hawk replied, glancing over at Traeger who seemed unfazed.

“Of course I did! What did you expect? I’m not an intern, you know.” he snapped. He quickly stood up and made his way towards the tent door. He turned around and faced the two doctors.

“You’re a lucky man, B.J. Who knows what would’ve happened if I weren’t here.”

Before Hawkeye or B.J. could reply, the specialist was out the door.

Hawkeye clenched his fist. He wanted to punch him. Damn Traeger and his ‘i’m a better doctor than you’ attitude. It was egotistic. He didn’t need to be belittled by the draftee specialist. He wasn’t some kid playing doctor in Korea. He knew exactly what he was doing. Hawkeye was certain he gained more experience doing two years of surgery in Korea than Traeger did in his twenty years of experience. More importantly, he didn’t need him adding more guilt to his conscience. He was already suffocating.

Hawkeye turned towards B.J. “Do you believe this guy?”

“To be that obnoxious, you better be good.”

“And dammit he is! But he’s still a jackass.”

Suddenly, B.J. began laughing and Hawk raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Hey Hawk, I know what we should’ve done. I could’ve really shown that prick. I should’ve died right there and then on the table!”

Hawkeye froze as he felt his guilt grow another size and a knot in his stomach formed. He didn’t think it was funny. That was the last thing he wanted to hear his friend say. He didn’t even want to think about it.

_“I should’ve died right there on the table”_

Too late. It echoed through his mind.

The guilt was eating at him over the events that transpired in the last 48 hours. He should’ve been the one with the compartment hemorrhage and bandaged arm right now, not B.J. It wasn’t fair.

Hawkeye was kicking himself for leaving the surgical reports in the scrub room. That’s why B.J. hurt himself in the first place. His mind was foggy and his body was drop-dead exhausted from the 14 hour O.R. shift, he wasn’t thinking straight but that was no excuse. How could he be so careless? If he collected the reports like he was supposed too, he would’ve saved B.J. from his misery.

Instead, B.J. ended up lying helplessly in pain on the scrub-room floor while he drank coffee with Margaret and Mulcahy in the mess tent. Why did he have to offer to find the reports in the first place? Damn B.J. for being so selfless-

“Hawk? Did you hear what I said?”

“Mhm.” Hawkeye snapped out of his thoughts. Oh boy, wouldn’t we have had the last laugh.”

“Well, you would have. I would be-”

_Don’t say it, Beej._

Hawkeye quickly stood up from his seat, the chair legs scratching harshly across the floor. He didn’t want to hear it. Not again.

“How about a celebratory drink, huh? Our cheesy-mustached surgeon is back in the meatball surgery business.” he said, quickly changing the subject.

Hawk poured two martini glasses filled with their intoxicating, home-made gin and carefully handed one glass to B.J.

“Careful, Beej. We don’t want another martini explosion on the floor.”

“Relax, Hawk. I’m not incompetent. My right arm is the one that’s injured, remember?”

“Right. I know.” Hawk sat back down in his chair and took a long sip from his drink. He stared down at the white bandage on B.J’s right wrist. It was taunting him. It reminded him of his selfishness. His mind suddenly trailed to Colonel Potter’s words:

_You can help by not butting in._

Those words of advice caused more harm for the blonde than comfort. Out of all the times he disobeyed his commanding officer, why did he choose now to listen to him?

His mind couldn’t handle the guilt anymore, and he wasn’t going to bottle up his emotions and get wasted like he did when Radar was injured. Hawkeye put his martini glass down and scooted his stool closer to B.J.’s cot.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Beej. Don’t you dare scare me like that again.”

“I’m sorry Hawk-”

“Beej, please. Let me finish. Alright?”

B.J. nodded, sensing some tension from his friend. He could tell there was something troubling him.

“It’s my fault you’re lying here bandaged up. I’m the one who’s sorry, not you. I keep blaming myself for what happend. It wasn’t your responsibility to grab the surgical reports. It was mine. Potter put me in charge of them. You should’ve been resting in the Swamp when the autoclave exploded, not the scrub room.” Hawkeye massaged the top of his temple - a headache was beginning to form.

“Hell, I should’ve paid more attention to your x-rays and done more tests on you. I should’ve noticed the hemorrhage, I’m the chief surgeon for god’s sake!, I just...Dammit Beej, I'm sorry. I let you down. I swear, I'm going to make it up to you. It won’t happen again.”

“It’s not your fault, Hawk. You didn’t know. I didn’t tell you.”

The room went silent. The chair scraped across the floor and Hawkeye was back on his feet. He ran a hand through his dark hair in frustration.

“That’s just it, Beej! You bury everything inside, how the hell am I supposed to help you? I knew I shouldn’t have believed you when you said you were fine. You’re so stubborn sometimes, you know. Damn you. I don’t think you realize how serious this was. You could’ve lost the use of your arm.”

Now B.J. was feeling the guilt. “Traeger fixed me up just fine. See?” B.J. flexed his fingers and wrist again for emphasis. “I’ll be up doing meatball surgery again in no time. Nothing to worry about.”

“But what if he didn’t fix it in time? You know the possible complications of a hemorrhage if you don’t operate right away. Muscle weakness, permanent nerve damage, loss of function. Sound familiar from med school? If Traeger noticed any of these, you bet he’ll be the one to refer you to Tokyo General - or even stateside. Beej, That can’t happen. Not now. The thought of losing you scares me. I don’t know if i’ll be able to cope. I’ve already lost one too many people in my life, and I'm not adding you to the list.”

B.J. felt tears begin to form that threatened to fall down. “I didn’t realize it scared you this much. I’m sorry.”

“Of course I was scared! I was terrified of losing you.”

Hawkeye sat on the edge of B.J. 's cot and took his left hand into his.“Look, We all know how strong you are. Everyone knows it. You’ve handled being in this hell hole better than any of us here combined, but there’s no shame in asking for help when you’re hurt. Let us in once in a while. Ok? You set such high expectations for yourself that you forget that you’re allowed to be human. Don’t try to pretend that I haven’t noticed.”

Hawkeye’s words stunned B.J. It took him a few moments to process everything his friend said. He was right. Ever since he arrived in Korea over a year ago, he forced himself to put on a brave face to hide his emotions. It was much easier than facing the harsh reality of the Korean war.

Truthfully, B.J. was terrified about his arm. It hurt like hell when he fell against the wall and it throbbed in pain hours after the incident. He couldn’t eat or sleep without worrying about the pain. He couldn’t even hold a martini glass without it smashing to the floor. He also worried about his future as a surgeon. He knew something was wrong but was too scared to admit his emotional and physical pain. Instead, he put up his infamous ‘mask’ of pretending everything was okay. This time, it backfired.

“I thought it was nothing, Hawk. Besides, I don’t have time to worry about myself. Someone has to be strong for the wounded that come in here. They’re scared kids. They need someone to depend on.”

“This isn’t a one-person job, Beej. Have you forgotten you’re not the only surgeon here? Don’t forget the nurses and corpsmen. It takes a whole team to make sure the boys that come through here survive to see another day. What do you say? Talk to us next time. Don’t bottle your feelings.”

B.J. nodded. “Sure, Hawk. I promise, but on one condition.”

“Anything Beej, you name it.”

“Do you mind asking Charles, I mean - our new company clerk - to make a call to San Francisco? Once he does, can you tell Peg what happened and that i’ll be fine? I don’t want her to worry, and I want her to hear it from me first.” he yawned.

Hawkeye let out a laugh. “Sure thing. If Charles doesn’t kill me first. Klinger has already run him ragged. Placing one phone call could be the tip of the iceberg.” He set his empty martini glass down beside the still and exchanged it for one of the brown army-issued blankets. He draped it over him gently, being careful of his injured arm. He then made his way towards the door, draping his red robe over his shoulders.

“Get some rest, B.J. I’ll make the call for you. Do you need anything? Should I ask Peg to send more of her famous brownies for us?”

Silence.

Hawkeye turned around and noticed that B.J.was already asleep. He watched his friend’s chest rise and fall slowly from under his blanket for a few moments. For the first time in 48 hours, Hawkeye stopped worrying. He knew that B.J. was going to be alright.


End file.
